When Laundry Misbehaves
by Lady Henrietta
Summary: Sometime during season 3: A series of laundry incidents causes suspicion and rumors. But do Roslin and Adama end up finding something more?
1. MIA or misplaced?

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

When Laundry Misbehaves

Part 1 of 4: MIA or misplaced?

It had been a few weeks Galactica and the colonists had seen the Cylons. All appeared to be quiet as various officers went to pick up and deliver laundry. Everyone was aware that two laundry carts should not go down the corridors at the same time, coming from opposite directions, due to how bulky the carts were. Two new volunteers to the laundry department had not been informed of this.

One cart for _Colonial One_ ended up in the same hallway as a cart delivering laundry to various officers that worked in CIC. The carts bumped as they passed each other and due to the collision, a few bags fell out and a few labels from some of the bags fell off. The two people apologized and resumed their trips.

Major Lee Adama passed one of the carts on the way to visit his father. "Hey, do you have my laundry?" he inquired.

"It's not on this cart, sir, but the admiral's is," the volunteer replied.

"I'll just take it to him," Lee remarked. The volunteer nodded and handed him the bag marked W. Adama.

The admiral opened the door after hearing knocking. "So you've come to talk about the reports?" the older man inquired.

"Yeah, and I brought your laundry," his son stated.

"Thanks," Adama said as he took the bag from Lee and brought it into his bedroom. He did not like wrinkles and wanted to hang up a few things immediately. When he opened the bag though, he found a few skirts, dresses, and silk blouses. "Lee, I think we have a problem," he called out.

The younger man entered the bedroom. "What's wrong, dad?"

"This isn't my laundry," Adama grumbled, looking through the bag.

His son raised an eyebrow and looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

The older man sighed. "I mean," he paused and pulled out a white bra, "that this isn't my laundry."

Lee stared at the article of clothing in shock. "Someone must've mixed up the labels along with the bags," he rationalized.

Adama nodded in agreement. "If only I could…" he trailed off, looking in the bag for some way of identification. _What's this? Why does this blue silk blouse look familiar? It reminds me of – oh frak, anything but that_. He had realized whose bag he had and he faced Lee with a grimace. "It would seem that I have President Roslin's laundry."

Lee smirked, imagining how she would react to hearing that one. Adama glanced at the clock with a scowl. "And I don't have time to tell her about it because I have to get over to CIC." With that, both men headed out of the door. On his way to CIC, Adama wondered where his laundry had gone.

The person pushing the cart to _Colonial One_ had delivered the laundry bags, leaving one for the president on her desk. President Laura Roslin picked up the laundry back and put it over her shoulder. Then she bent down to reach for a few files, not realizing that something had fallen from the bag.

She headed to her makeshift room and placed the files in her private filing cabinet before heading to the bathroom. In the meantime Tory had entered the outer room and sat waiting for the president. As her eyes drifted to the floor, she spotted a dark blue clump of clothing on the floor.

Tory left the chair and carefully picked up the item by the elastic. Once she realized what it was, she gasped: it was a man's pair of boxers. The president exited the bathroom and entered the outer room to see her aide's horrified expression. "Is something wrong, Tory?" she asked politely.

Swallowing her shock, the aide faced the older woman. "Madame President, as your advisor regarding your public image, I would recommend that you not make a habit of leaving certain articles of clothing around your office after having… entertained company," she instructed.

Roslin eyed her with perplexed curiosity, until she spotted what the younger woman was holding. "How in the world did those get in my office?" she wondered out loud.

"Perhaps there was some indiscretion between the office and the bedroom," the aide commented, giving Roslin a disapproving look.

The older woman shook her head adamantly. "No, I haven't been seeing anyone. I have no idea how…" she trailed off, remembering the laundry bag. She retrieved it and set it out on her desk. "I wonder if…" she trailed off again, her fingers confirming her suspicions as she pulled out a man's pants and military uniform. "I have someone else's laundry," she stated.

"The labels must have been switched," Tory suggested, tossing the boxers back into the bag, glad to be rid of them as soon as possible.

"But whose laundry is this?" Roslin inquired as she took a better look at the military jacket. _Hmm, lots of buttons, looks like most of the others but, wait, there's a name on the collar_. Her eyes led her to see a W. Adama and she swallowed hard. "Admiral Adama's laundry seems to have found its way here."

The aide put her hands to her forehead. "Madame President, this must be taken care of immediately before the press finds out and thinks the same thing that I did," she pointed out. "You should call him."

Roslin nodded and picked up the phone. "What am I supposed to say to him? 'Admiral, I have your pants, would you like them back sometime today?'" Roslin said to Tory, not realizing that Adama had picked up the phone.

Colonel Tigh had picked up the other headset and was caught between wanting to laugh and absolute shock. The admiral closed his eyes for a moment, having heard the same thing. _For Kobol's sake, Laura, what were you thinking_? Adama cleared his throat and spoke. "Madame President, I am not the only one who heard what you just said," he told her with as much dignity as he could muster. "Now do you mind telling me what the frak is going on?"

Roslin sighed heavily, blushing scarlet on her end of the phone. "There's been a laundry mix-up, which we should remedy as soon as possible," she explained.

"I've noticed and I completely agree. Might I suggest that we move to a secure line?" he advised.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Of course."

Having transferred the call, the arranged to have Tory bring his laundry bag to him and pick up Roslin's laundry. The transaction was made quietly and no one from the press noticed anything.


	2. Lunch incidents

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Part 2 of 4: Lunch incidents

A few days later, Roslin was having lunch with one of the Picon delegates from the Quorum. The man's manners were something to be desired, as he was a sloppy eater. He had just stuffed a good deal of spinach in his mouth when he felt the uncontrollable urge to sneeze several times, unfortunately covering Roslin in spinach. She stood quickly, but hit her own tray with her elbow and ended up with green-bean-casserole on her clothes as well.

"I'm so sorry, Madame President," the man said hastily.

She sighed and stood, speaking in her best politician's voice. "It was really no trouble, Mr. Garmen. If you'll excuse me, I think that lunch has been concluded," she told him politely.

Being on Galactica, she walked down the corridors, glad that most of the officers had posts to be at. _Where can I go to clean this up quickly? That's the last time I ever eat spinach with a delegate_, she thought to herself. Then she spotted a familiar door and decided to knock.

She heard grumbling and then the door creaked open. Adama raised an eyebrow in surprise to see her standing there. He stood in his gray and black exercise outfit, having just come from the gym after practicing his boxing by himself. "Madame President, was there something you needed?"

He took stock of her appearance and noticed squiggly pieces of green sticking to parts of her outfit. "I look terrible, I know," she managed.

Letting her in, he grinned wryly. "You're no worse than me," he mentioned, his shirt clinging to him damply. "I didn't know we had an aquarium here. You didn't happen to fall into it, did you?" he teased.

She sighed and shook her head. "I wish it were that simple. I was eating lunch with one of the Quorum members and he sneezed spinach on me. Standing up I managed to add casserole to the mess too."

The whole incident seemed to embarrass her and she looked away from him. "Noodles with tomato sauce would have been worse," he tried to cheer her up.

"I suppose you're right," she responded with a smile. "It's a bit of a ways to _Colonial One and _I'd really rather not walk there looking like this. I hate to bother you like this Bill, but may I use your shower?"

_I was actually heading there, but you look like it you could use it more_. "Sure. You look like you're going to need something else to wear for a while too. I'll loan you a set of sweats and set some towels out for you," he relayed.

After calling Tory to bring her an extra suit, she disappeared into the bathroom and he headed toward his linen closet to remove two gray towels. Then he knocked on the door and stated, "I put the towels out," before leaving the room.

Her clothing had been set on a shelf next to the bathroom door. When she leaned out to get the towels, she accidentally knocked her bra off the top of the pile and it landed on the floor outside of the bathroom. Adama sat on the couch reading as he waited for his shower. After a few minutes, he heard another knock at the door. He rose and let his son in.

"Lee, what are you doing here?" he inquired.

He let his son in and he noticed the embarrassed fidgeting. "Sir, this is going to sound embarrassing, but Dee used my toothbrush to clean the shower, not realizing that I only had one. I was just wondering if you had a spare." the other man admitted.

"Sure, check the linen closet," Adama replied.

Lee headed over to the linen closet, hearing that someone was in the shower. He noticed a familiar pair of high-heeled shoes in a passing glance. Then he opened the linen closet door, the corner of it door brushing a certain article of women's clothing. He gasped and quickly grabbed the toothbrush. Dashing out, he nearly ran into his father. "Did you find it?"

The younger man took in his father's appearance and then glanced back at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your shower and the president's," he mumbled.

Adama eyed him incredulously and shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

Lee was already out the door, leaving Adama to stare perplexedly at the door and then turn back toward the linen closet, hearing the shower shut off. _I wonder what his problem- _he stopped in mid-thought, seeing a particular item of clothing on the floor. _Good grief, he thought that- oh this is going to take some explaining later. As if CIC wasn't bad enough._

"Bill, are you there?" Roslin called from the shower.

"Yes," he replied.

"I think something of mine got left out there," she paused and cracked the door open enough to stick her hand out. "Would you mind handing me-"

"Here," he handed it to her by the strap quickly.

"Thanks. Sorry about that," she responded before closing the door again.

Adama headed back out into the living room in time to hear another knock. He opened the door to find Captain Kara Thrace standing outside. "Starbuck, what can I do for you?"

She noticed that he was in sweats and seemed like he was not particularly looking for company. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but you wanted me to tell you when I had a few new strategies on how to take down the Cylon baseships," she mentioned.

He nodded and waved her in. "Come on in, have a seat," he stated. They sat on the couch and she brought out a piece of paper, showing him her ideas.

A few minutes later, Roslin walked out of the bedroom area, wearing an extra set of the admiral's sweats, her hair wrapped in a towel. "Bill, you can have your shower back now. Thank you," she remarked.

Starbuck's jaw almost dropped before she grinned. Roslin raised an eyebrow and exchanged curious looks with Adama. "Wait 'till I tell the colonel that I won the bet," Starbuck commented.

"What bet?" Roslin inquired.

"He told me what happened in CIC and bet that it was a misunderstanding. I bet that you two were… well… seeing each other," she replied.

Roslin rolled her eyes and Adama chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint you, but Saul won the bet. She just dropped by to use my shower because she ended up wearing lunch today," he explained.

Starbuck stood and neared the door. "It's too bad really. There's lots of gossip out there regarding you two. It would do me good to win a few bets now and then," she remarked as she left.

Sitting down on the couch, Roslin faced Adama. "I'm sorry, Bill. I should have just gone back to _Colonial One_."

He put his hands up. "I'm the one who loaned you my sweats. Should you need to stop by like that again, I'd recommend leaving an extra set of clothes here if it's possible."

"That's a good idea. I might just do that. Was someone else here earlier?" she asked.

The admiral cleared this throat and faced her. "Lee came by while you were still in the shower looking for a toothbrush."

She giggled. "A toothbrush? That's a bit odd."

"Dee used his to clean their shower, not knowing that he only had one. I happen to have a few extras, so he went back to the linen closet looking for one," Adama relayed, smirking as Roslin laughed. "Then he left in a hurry."

Roslin studied him and then slapped her forehead. "Oh crap, what he must have thought… he saw it on the floor, didn't he?"

"If you're referring to a particular article of laundry, you're right. It'll talk to him later and clear things up," the admiral mentioned.

"I can't wait until Tory gets here and finds me lounging around in your sweats," she remarked sarcastically.

He was quiet for what she realized was too long. Then he began chuckling again. "It would be worse if I had loaned you my bathrobe," he pointed out.

She laughed too and was still trying to stop when someone knocked on the door. Adama let Tory in and she eyed the president's outfit as if she was looking for signs of scandal. Then she quietly handed the president her suit. "Madame President," she began. _Oh drat, she's going to lecture me after all_, Roslin thought. "If you're going to continue this affair of yours, then I would suggest that you leave extra clothes on _Galactica_ to avoid wearing anyone else's clothes over to your ship."

Roslin sighed heavily. "But the whole thing was unplanned. Someone I was eating lunch with got food on me and I stopped here to take a shower."

"We will have to work on your excuses if you want to sound believable. I do not approve of this idea of yours, but I cannot stop you," the aide expressed as they headed for the door.

Just before they left, Adama added, "Next time we decide to do this, I'll just say that you came by to wash off the stench of politics."

She turned and mouthed what she wanted to say so that Tory did not hear it. "It's not funny. Now I'm never going to hear the end of this." Adama kept chuckling as they left. He found the whole thing very funny indeed.

(My thanks to carolann and Isabel Juno for reviewing :D)


	3. The trouble with company

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Part 3 of 4: The trouble with company

Roslin sat in her office, looking over a few requests from Quorum members to look out for the interests of their colonies. She thumbed through the papers and twiddled her pen through her fingers, thankful that the Cylons had not bothered them for a while, but feeling bored because she was not in the mood to go through paperwork. She had removed her glasses and lazily discarded her jacket on a small table before running her fingers through her hair.

A call interrupted her boredom. The admiral was asking to come aboard, so she allowed him and waited until he entered her office. "Have a seat, Bill. Do what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked with a smile.

He took one glance at her paperwork and grinned. "Me dropping by is the most interesting thing that's happened to you all day, I suppose?" he asked wryly.

Her chuckle confirmed his answer as he sat in the chair in front of her. "Some days are just bland. Space has no seasons, nothing to indicate what time of the day it is even. Part of me wishes that I had a plant, but then I'd probably end up killing it anyway because there's no sunlight," she admitted.

"Well Laura, at least you didn't have my day," he remarked gruffly, trying to rub his stiff neck after placing his glasses on her desk.

"What happened?" she questioned, leaning forward on the desk with her hands folded in front of her.

"Some idiot was trying to find a way to conserve energy by rewiring a few things and while we were scanning for Cylon ships, we ended up in a blackout that took an hour and a half to fix. Then two lieutenants with maintenance reports ran into each other as they entered CIC, one going out and one coming in, with papers flying everywhere. After that, Gaeta and a few others found something extremely funny and they all ended up laughing every once in a while. I still don't know what that was all about. And then there was Saul. He kept asking me if he needed to listen every time I answered the phone," Adama explained.

Roslin smirked. "Has he been doing that since the pants incident?"

The admiral sighed, unable to eliminate all the knots in his neck. "Yes," he admitted simply.

She stood and slowly walked over to him. Then she moved out of his view and he felt two long-fingered hands on his neck, gently massaging it. Somehow she had managed to lessen some of the tension. "I think a good hot shower would help you. I'd offer you a drink, but I seem to have misplaced my Ambrosia since moving back onto my ship," she relayed.

"That feels good. Are you sure you won't mind if I used your shower?" he probed.

She stopped when he put his hands on hers. "I used your shower and got you in trouble with Lee and Starbuck. The least I can do is let you use mine."

He stood and smiled politely. "In that case, I'll be back in a while," he told her before disappearing into her bathroom.

As she listened to the water, the phone rang again. Both Lee and Tory had come to speak with her. _I have a bad feeling about this_, she thought as they entered the office and sat. Lee wanted to discuss some concerns that the pilots had. She listened to him first and then to Tory, who told her about concerns from the colonists.

As he sat in the chair to Roslin's right, Lee kept looking at her desk. "Ma'am, is my father here?" he inquired.

She blinked several times, his question having surprised her. "What makes you say that?"

"His glasses are here," the major pointed out.

"Madame President, is that the shower running?" Tory questioned, sitting in the chair to Roslin's left.

Roslin sighed in frustration as she blushed, not knowing what to say. Then the shower shut off and she heard the admiral. "Laura, I can't seem to find my dog tags. I think they came off with my undershirt. Where's the light switch?" Roslin rubbed her eyes and groaned, horrified at what Tory and Lee had just overheard. "Never mind, I found them."

"I promise it's not what it looks like," she nearly whispered. _Or what it sounds like._

He emerged from the back area, buttoning up his uniform jacket. "Thanks Laura, that was a good idea. Have you seen my glasses?"

_Oh for Kobol's sake, why?_ "Here," she paused, handing them to him, "and we have company."

Taking them in, he looked at her quizzically. "What's the problem? I oh… oh crap," he had finally noticed the looks that Tory and Lee were giving them.

For a moment everyone exchanged glances and there was a long pause. Tory sighed and broke the silence. "Madame President, there are only so many ways to clean up indiscretions," she remarked flatly.

Roslin stared pensively at the desk with her hands folded in front of her. Adama could almost feel her distress and decided to try a different tactic as he set his glasses back on her desk and placed a hand on it as well. "Since I had to fix your shower, I think it's only fair that if I win the next time we play cards, you fix my sink."

His plan worked and she shot him a wry grin. Then the full force of the absurdity of the situation hit her and the uncontrollable giggling began. Tory left in a huff. Lee stood and stated, "I'm not even going to ask," before leaving.

Adama sat in Lee's vacated chair and smirked as he placed one hand on her desk, watching Roslin continue to giggle. _I could watch her all day_. Finally she took a deep breath and composed herself, squeezing his hand with one of hers. "Bill, how are we ever going to face those two again? I don't think that they bought your story. This whole thing has just gotten out of hand," she mentioned.

He nodded. "You can't even loan someone your shower without it looking suspicious."

"It wouldn't have looked suspicious if your son had not seen your glasses," she pointed out with a smirk.

"You could've walked back to the bathroom before they reached your office and told me they were coming," he countered.

She sighed and folded her hands in front of her. "That would've been a good idea," pausing, she stood and sat in the chair that Tory had left. "We need to make it clear to them that there is nothing of that sort between us."

"You really think they're going to buy that?" he asked incredulously.

"Probably not, but we have to try," she replied, chuckling.

_Would it really be so bad if those two were right? It might do us both some good_, he wanted to say. "I'll try to square things with Lee again. At least Kara hasn't said anything about any more bets," he relayed, meeting Roslin's gaze with his.

_Maybe we should help her win a few bets. There's a lot more than 'nothing of that sort' going on and if you haven't noticed it, at least I have_, she wanted to say. "Why did you come by, Bill?"

He grinned and took her hands in his. "Because I needed a minute of sanity and you're the person I can do that with," he remarked with a chuckle.

She giggled again. "I never thought that you would put sanity and finding me in the same sentence."

"You have to admit that stranger things have happened. I never figured you'd like boxing," he admitted.

Moving so that her right elbow rested on the desk and her chin rested on her right hand, she smiled mischievously. "It's nice to know that I can surprise you once in a while."

"Laura, the day you don't surprise me anymore is the day that both of us are too old to move," he conveyed.

"I'd drink to the thought of both of us living that long if I could find my Ambrosia," she responded, smiling.

He glanced at his watch and sighed before standing. "I should go. I hope at least you can say that your day wasn't boring," he stated.

"With the two of us, how can life ever be boring?" she asked, laughing lightly. Then she spotted a familiar object on her desk. "You might want to take these before there are any other misunderstandings," she commented, handing him his glasses for the second time. He thanked her and took them as he left. _There are days when I think our jobs are to pick up after each other_, she thought with a smirk before returning to her files.

(My thanks to carolann, marisolcaley, kathgrr, Isabel Juno, weirdofromafar, and asouldreams for reviewing :D)


	4. Misadventures and other ideas

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Part 4 of 4: Misadventures and other ideas

In the middle of her day, Roslin received a phone call. "Laura, I have something you might want to retrieve later," Adama mentioned.

She had planned to stop by his quarters after her meeting with the education committee. Being the last one out of the room, she had not noticed that a few strands of thread had come loose along the aged seam of her skirt. A few strings caught in the door handle and ripped the seam on the right side where her zipper was as she tried to leave. Well this is going to be interesting. _Wait, Bill wanted me to come over for something. Maybe he'll have a way to fix this_.

Adama opened his door later and let her in. He had taken off his jacket to fix two loose buttons. "Something wrong with your arm?" he asked, seeing her hold one arm stiffly at her side as he shut the door.

Moving her hand, she showed him the rip. "I was leaving my meeting with the education committee when some loose threads caught on the door. I've ripped not only the seam, but my zipper," she admitted.

She raised an eyebrow when he smiled. "In that case, I have good news for you. Lee thought he was being funny and dropped your laundry off here today along with mine, so you actually have your own clothes here this time," he relayed, pointing toward his bedroom, indicating that the bag of clothes was there.

"That is good news. I just need to- uh oh," she stopped in mid-sentence and he eyed her with concern.

"What's wrong?" he questioned.

Sighing heavily, she backed herself against his desk. "The zipper is stuck to my nylons."

"Just rip them," he suggested.

She shook her head. "They're my only pair. For some reason I can't see the problem from my angle enough to get the zipper unstuck."

"Maybe I can help," he volunteered. "Hold still."

Moving toward her right side, he found the zipper and carefully felt how it was stuck to the nylons. He seemed, however, to be unaware of the proximity or the intimate nature of the situation between himself and the president. _I really do hope you hurry. Having you this close is very, very distracting_, Roslin thought, still backed up against his desk.

"I've almost got it, but you need to take your jacket…" he trailed off has he looked up to speak to her, their noses almost touching. _This was definitely not a good idea_, Adama thought to himself as she took off her jacket.

He cleared his throat and focused on the task at hand. She licked her lips and decided to speak. "Perhaps it would be easier if-"

"Got it," he interjected as her skirt fell to the floor.

Unfortunately, Colonel Tigh picked that moment to wander through the admiral's door, wanting to talk with him. "Bill, you should hear what the rumor mill has going this time. There's a new one about…holy frak…" the colonel trailed off, spotting the admiral and the president in a compromising position.

"You really should lock your doors, Bill," Roslin mentioned, giving him the over-the-glasses look. Tigh seemed frozen in silence as she picked up her skirt from the floor and with more dignity than she felt, remarked "If you will excuse me, Colonel," and headed toward the bedroom to find her clothes.

Adama swallowed hard and faced the colonel. At that moment the colonel's gaze shifted to where Adama's jacket lay over a chair. Tigh ran his hand over his balding head. "And all this time I thought Starbuck was blowin' smoke. Bill, what the hell are you thinking?" he commented.

"Saul, it's not what it looks like. There is nothing going on between us. I was trying to fix a couple of buttons and then she came by and her zipper was-"

"Lee was right too. You've got some lame excuses," Tigh interrupted.

Roslin walked out of the bedroom wearing a newly acquired pair of slacks. She glanced over at the admiral. "I think that I've had enough problems with skirts for one day," she conveyed.

"I really didn't need to know that," Tigh stated.

Roslin walked up to him and looked him square in the eye. "I'm going to tell you what happened so you can take your mind out of the gutter. Some threads from my skirt caught on an open door latch and ripped along with the zipper as I left a meeting with the education committee. The admiral's quarters happen to be closer than my ship, so I thought that I would stop here to fix it, and as for the laundry, it was Lee's fault," she explained.

Tigh looked at both of them and sighed, shaking his head. He waited a while before speaking. "You two are either covering up somethin' or you both have really bad luck. I'm going to go with you on this story because I know that you two, of all people, know better than to start somethin' that could stir up more trouble. But you two are being too damned sloppy in how you fix your problems. Bill, for everybody's sake, lock your damn door. And Madame President, carry a sewing kit with you."

"Thank you for your advice, Colonel, and would you mind telling everyone else that there is nothing going on?" Roslin requested.

"Certainly, Madame President," he said before leaving.

Roslin and Adama sighed simultaneously and sank down into his couch. She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a frustrated groan. After a moment, he stood and walked off to find a bottle of green liquid and two glasses. "I'm really sorry about not locking my door," he conveyed as he returned and poured them each a glass of Ambrosia.

She her free hand over his and took a drink. "I can't believe that of all the people to walk in, it was Colonel Tigh."

Adama chuckled and switched the position of their hands so that he was holding her hand and rubbing small circles in it. He took a drink and smiled at her, then he stood and walked over to the door. She raised an eyebrow and watched as he locked it. "I'm going to do one thing right today," he remarked as he rejoined her and drained his glass. "No more unplanned guests for the day."

Grinning wryly, she finished her glass as well. "He was right about one thing; our luck is horrible. It's not our fault that our clothes are the ones misbehaving."

They both laughed and then she noticed a mischievous glint in his eye. He leaned close and whispered in her ear, "It's a good cover for what's really going on though."

His warm breath sent shivers down her spine and when he pulled away, she smirked. "And what is 'really going on?'" she dared to ask.

"This, I hope," he murmured as he wrapped one arm around her waist and cupped her chin with his other hand. She placed her hands on his chest and their lips met for a sound kiss.

Just one kiss was not enough and they continued, kissing more ardently. He stood and pulled her with him. The intensity of their kissing increased and he kissed her deeply. On the way to the bedroom, a blouse and a belt somehow ended up on the floor, along with a pair of slacks and a pair of trousers. He picked her up as they continued to kiss passionately and stopped at his bed to set her down.

Roslin was very aware of their current state and grinned at him fiendishly. "Our laundry has been very bad."

"Yes, I'd say our laundry has definitely been misbehaving," he responded before drawing close to her for another kiss.

Later in the afternoon, Lee came to his father's quarters, wanting to go over some flight simulator problems that the rookie pilots had been having. What Adama had forgotten was that Lee had a key to his door. After not hearing any response to his knocking, the younger man decided that he would enter and wait until his father returned from wherever he was. Unlocking the door, Lee noticed the clothes around the room and paused.

"They probably just decided to go to the gym and forgot to fold things," Lee assessed, leaving and shutting the door behind him, not hearing muffled giggling emanating from the bedroom.

(This story was fun to write. Merry Christmas and Happy New year, if you celebrate those. My thanks to carolann, kathgrr, marisolcaley, luv4roslin, Phaser Lady, and asouldreams for reviewing :D).


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